Moonrise
I awoke in the Midsummer not to call night, in the white and the walk of the morning:
The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe of a finger-nail held to the candle,
Or paring of paradisaical fruit, lovely in waning but lustreless,
Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, of dark Maenefa the mountain;
A cusp still clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him, entangled him, not quite utterly.
This was the prized, the desirable sight, unsought, presented so easily,
Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, eyelid and eyelid of slumber.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Fall to Earth
The stubborn little Maple leaf
held on when all its fellows fled.
They carpeting the ground beneath
a vast lushscape of gold and red.
Leaf held on through wind and rain,
the last survivor of its race.
Leaf held on past Turkey day
maintaining there its pride of place.
Then Leaf grew lonely, I suppose-
Like the summer's final rose.
Leaf envied then the flakes of snow
Who fluttered past to their repose.
Then, just as winter came to call,
Leaf felt a tug and then a snap.
Flying, tumbling on the winds
Fall to Earth. Fade to black.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Came With The Threat Of A Waning Moon
It came with the threat of a waning moon
And the wail of an ebbing tide,
But many a woman has lived for less,
And many a man has died;
For life upon life took hold and passed,
Strong in a fate set free,
Out of the deep into the dark
On for the years to be.
Between the gloom of a waning moon
And the song of an ebbing tide,
Chance upon chance of love and death
Took wing for the world so wide.
O, leaf out of leaf is the way of the land,
Wave out of wave of the sea
And who shall reckon what lives may live
In the life that we bade to be?
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jewls
If I should see your eyes again,
I know how far their look would go --
Back to a morning in the park
With sapphire shadows on the snow.
Or back to oak trees in the spring
When you unloosed my hair and kissed
The head that lay against your knees
In the leaf shadow's amethyst.
And still another shining place
We would remember -- how the dun
Wild mountain held us on its crest
One diamond morning white with sun.
But I will turn my eyes from you
As women turn to put away
The jewels they have worn at night
And cannot wear in sober day.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
September Morn
I watch the World around me
As again I hear nature call
For it is the end of summertime
And the awakening of a beautiful fall.
The leaves have changed their colors
The skies became icy white
My heart becomes exceedingly joyful
At Septembers, beautiful sight.
The rustling wind has turned to cold
The leaves have changed to brown
This moment, I pray to hold
As the leaves fall onto the ground.
The squirrels scurry from their trees
The birds have all flown away
It is another September morning
I feel it with each step that I take.
With a cold wind against my back
I journey to a great tree
To pick up the jewels that she left there
An acorn, and a lonely leaf.
I shiver as I walk
With a leaf and acorn in hand
I watch fall as it arrives around me,
So happy is this man.
I then walk up unto my wife
I present her with the leaf and acorn
So happy I am with this fall,
That I give Her my September morn.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Could Be The Moon
i could be the moon
where you can be a body and a
shadow
i could be a lake where
the moon may shine
and you can still be the body
and the shadow
and the voice
i could be a candle in the dark
where you may put
your hope and you can still be the
body and the shadow
and the scent
i could all be your moon
your lake and your candle
and you can still be the body and the shadow
and you shall walk
under me (if i were the moon)
and around me (if i were the lake)
and you may have the power
to put me off (if i were just a candle
in the dark
where you are the body
and the shadow and the voice
and by the mere sigh
of your whimper
i may die
so i still prefer to be your moon
or your lake so i can be your full light
so i can be your mirror
larger than your body
not helpless to your shadow
in silence, i still like to be myself
not a slave, not someone whom you can just
give away as easily as a flicker of a candle
as fickle as you are
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Relaxation Of A Native Woman
the night is very cold here
on top of Mt. Malindang
the old woman sits on the ground
(there are no chairs here)
puts her arm on her knee
and begins to roll a
leaf which she dried under
the sun the whole day
she tears a small portion of the tobacco leaf
rolls it on the other leaf and then she
lights the roll on the gas lamp
she puffs her smoke
to the moon.
everyone understands
what silence is all about
there are no more stories
from exhausted bodies
the souls are rested
on top of wilted grass
and then everybody is
fast asleep
for tomorrow's same work.
i am new here and i
am beginning to understand
what is this big mountain
all about?
why is it here
and why the people are not
at all complaining?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Got The Sun In The Morning
Taking stock of what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
The things I got will keep me satisfied
Checking up on what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
A healthy balance on the credit side
Got no diamond
Got no pearl
Still I think I'm a lucky girl
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[2]
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no silver
Got no gold
What I got can't be bought or sold
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[3]
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no heirlooms
For my kin
Made no will but when I cash in
I leave the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening they're all right
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You
From eyes I will read.
Don’t say, what you say
but remain you.
Dismantle the tower,
go for a walk,
when the moon climbs on dew.
Seed by seed
we went mad
leaf by leaf I held you.
Sit on the bank
wash your feet,
rock by rock pain were you.
Stars will go
sun will rise.
At the dawn, I want you.
Sins were many
birds were few.
In twilight zone
a cuckoo flew.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Sea
It is not through weeping,
but all evening the pale blue eye
on your most photogenic side has kept
its own unfathomable tide. Like the boy
at the dyke I have been there:
held out a huge finger,
lifted atoms of dust with the point
of a tissue and imagined slivers of hair
in the oil on the cornea. We are both
in the dark, but I go on
drawing the eyelid up by its lashes
folding it almost inside-out, then finding
and hiding every mirror in the house
as the iris, besieged with the ink
of blood rolls back
into its own orbit. Nothing
will help it. Through until dawn
you dream the true story of the boy
who hooked out his eye and ate it,
so by six in the morning
I am steadying the ointment
that will bite like an onion, piping
a line of cream while avoiding the pupil
and in no time it is glued shut
like a bad mussel.
Friends call round
and mean well. They wait
and whisper in the air-lock of the lobby
with patches, eyewash, the truth
about mascara.
Even the cats are on to it;
they bring in starlings, and because their feathers
are the colours of oil on water in sunlight
they are a sign of something.
In the long hours
beyond us, irritations heal
into arguments. For the eighteenth time
it comes to this: the length of your leg sliding out
from the covers, the ball of your foot
like a fist on the carpet
while downstairs
I cannot bring myself to hear it.
Words have been spoken; things that were bottled
have burst open and to walk in now
would be to walk in
on the ocean.
poem by Simon Armitage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two Divided By Zero
(two divided by zero, zero)
(two divided by zero, zero, zero)
Lets not go home, well catch the late train
Ive got enough money to pay all the way
When the postman calls, hell deliver the letter
Ive explained everything; its better that way
(divided by, divided by) I think they heard a rumour
(divided by, divided by) or someone tipped them off
(divided by, divided by) its better to go sooner
(divided by, divided by) than call it all off
Well catch a plane to new york, and a cab going down
Cross the bridges and tunnels, straight into town
Tomorrow morning well be miles away
On another continent and another day
(divided by, divided by) lets not go home
(divided by, divided by) or call it a day
(divided by, divided by) you wont be alone
(divided by, divided by) lets run away
(two divided by zero, zero)
(two divided by zero, zero, zero)
(d...d...d...d...d...divided by)
(divided by, divided by)
(z...z...z...z...z...zero, zero)
(divided by)
(turn of that noise...)
(divided by, divided by) someone spread a rumour
(divided by, divided by zero, zero)
(divided by, divided by) better to go sooner
(divided by, divided by) lets run away
So why hang around for the deed to be done
You can give it all up for a place in the sun
When the postman calls well be miles away
On a plane to new york and another day
(divided by, divided by) I think they heard a rumour
(divided by, divided by) or someone tipped them off
(divided by, divided by) better to go sooner
(divided by, divided by) than call it all off
(divided by, divided by) someone spread a rumour
(divided by, divided by) and someone has to pay
(divided by, divided by) lets not go home
(divided by, divided by) lets run away
(divided by, divided by) lets not go home
(divided by, divided by) lets run away
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Moon Mystery!
Auspicious or not, crescent Moon is always precious to poets;
Waxing and waning Moons have different effects of superstition;
Crescent Moons good or bad are ever poets’ great inspiration!
Crescent Moon is a basket for carrying flowers of Stars in it;
Crescent Moon is the boat that travels on the ocean of Sky;
Crescent Moon is a fine jewel decorating Lord Siva’s tresses!
Waxing crescent Moon with a Star is very auspicious to Islamites;
Thus silent beauty in the Western Sky encourages worn out souls;
But the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky was a fun on tour!
What a beautiful sight the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky!
On a sudden bus travel in plains I happened to see this in a cold night
Making me wonder as I used to wonder at the Western crescent Moon!
Moon is still a mystery though many rockets are sent there for probes
As the dark side of the Moon is still a dark matter for millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Last Petal
cautious take simple
arrogant, shifted
in the highway of change; leaving where
an open hand may not close,
to the heart of envied eyes, a callous of pride
beyond any pollen petals of decompose
scented candle hurriedly calls
the melted fog of genuine
leaf, looking where
the wind call and fall into the ground
of fertile soil; letting the moist perfume the
golden lullaby of your stay
forever smell the last leaf to float
and fly where
life goes in the journey of every last
sight...
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Leaf
The Leaf.
On my walks I picked up a perfectly formed elm leaf,
the colour of dry tobacco. In Norway, during the Nazi
occupation, people had tobacco plants in back yards.
Perhaps carrots and cabbage had been healthier.
Put the leaf on top of a white wall and took a picture.
The wind came and blew it away. I brief meeting of
equals and a memory
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mulch ado about nothing?
She took a leaf from off her favourite tree
and held it to the light within her heart.
The pictures it portrayed of what may be
were sadly lacking that one vital part.
She'd hoped the leaf had held some of the two,
who'd sat beneath it's shade so many times.
She sought to see the things they'd yet to do
had they not been exposed to Kismet's crimes.
But, as the leaf was newly born this year
it held none of the essence which she sought.
It hadn't known the love, the hope, the fear.
It knew not of her calculated plot.
She watched it fall to ground, one passing thought.
She walked away, and left it, there to rot.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Limbo Leaf
Mr.Leaf, Lays still on the
Misty Soil has
A story to narrate
A song to sing
A poem to recite
Of the plants, of the trees
Of the herbs and
Of the shrubs...
Mr.Leaf began...
Past went apart; Leaving me alone
Present presented tears; For me to wipe out
Future away from nature; To turn me to a corpse
Tear droplets sat on leaf
Which appeared alike dewdrops
The half dead leaf sheds tears
Yes! A pinch of life
Stays awake
In this pale & yellow leaf
Striving to say more
Mr.Leaf realised: -
Time to leave the plant
Time to accompany the land
Time to dissolve in the soil
It flew away
With the rythm of the wind
Dancing & dazzling
To the blacky-rocky land
There it lies cold & still
Waiting to be vanished
Down the soil pores.
poem by Mariya M. Jos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Aura
The air was dark
The moon was dark
The night was dark
The cloud was dark
The heat was dark
The stars were black
The birds were black
The eyes were black
The shadows were black
The planes were black
A sound of night
The hearts of night
A chase at night
A fall at night
No help at night
The night is night
Where is my sight
I have no sight
Your light was sight
No light no sight
No one in sight
The dark in sight
Don't call my name
What's my name
They call my name
That's not my name
Who said its my name
I have no name
You took my same
It was our same
She was our same
She's now your same
Its all the same
I'm not the same
Judas and my hand
You took my hand
'I do' my hand
You kissed my hand
You broke my hand
You fell my hand
A tear in sand
A heart in sand
A body in sand
Alone in sand
A dust in sand
At home in sand.
poem by Jenim Dibie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Pleiades
LAST night I saw the Pleiades again,
Faint as a drift of steam
From some tall chimney-stack;
And I remembered you as you were then:
Awoke dead worlds of dream,
And Time turned slowly back.
I saw the Pleiades through branches bare,
And close to mine your face
Soft glowing in the dark;
For Youth and Hope and Love and You were there
At our dear trysting-place
In that bleak London park.
And as we kissed the Pleiades looked down
From their immeasurable
Aloofness in cold Space.
Do you remember how a last leaf brown
Between us flickering fell
Soft on your upturned face?
Last night I saw the Pleiades again,
Here in the alien South,
Where no leaves fade at all;
And I remembered you as you were then,
And felt upon my mouth
Your leaf-light kisses fall!
The Pleiades remember and look down
On me made old with grief,
Who then a young god stood,
When you—now lost and trampled by the Town,
A lone wind-driven leaf,—
Were young and sweet and good!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Another Leaf.....
another leaf
another year
another seed to plant
another tree to grow
there will be no hiding from now on
there will be more
confrontations
no one to trust
everyone is a suspect
love of self
nothing greater than this
another leaf
of the book to turn to
another page
to write on the journal
tomorrow is my day
my own unique beginning
you were all disappointments
my food came to the wrong mouths
there is no wishing for death
for me or for anyone
there is more use to reason now
rather than the flings of the heart
another sun for me
another new moon
my shadows follow me
and not otherwise
another leaf
without a worm
another glistening leaf
dew forgiven.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Change
She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!
She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
'My life, ' she said, 'is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!
'Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary - it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! '
The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.
To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning -
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?
A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken -
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.
The night is dark, for the moon is failing -
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing -
Woe that the change should come so soon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ars Poetica
A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit
Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb
Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown -
A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs
Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,
Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind -
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs
A poem should be equal to:
Not true
For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf
For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea -
A poem should not mean
But be
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!